pitiful morbid soul.

I've written suicide letters each year, since 3 years ago. One from the last 9 years, I kept behind one family photo I no longer bother to take a second glance at.

I'd write so much if I could, all the time like I used to but my mind doesn't work wonders in such a dejecting state the way it was able to. Every year you grow thinking you've gotten weaker, but realising at the end of it, you're only a bit more stronger than the last time. Not for now. Not since the beginning of this year. Not me. I'm helpless, inane. I've become nothing but a parasite.

Maybe the more attention I get or sincere love I receive, the more in touch I am with my emotions. The more alive you get, the more you feel. It never has work quite well for me, being this human. Not for the last 3 and a half years. Cogitating my existence, I sometimes forget why I let myself breathe for another day. Then again, we all know it could never be up to me. I analyse myself, I take note, I observe and notice changes- you'd think it'd be good to know yourself so well. It isn't. It could never be in a gazillion years. No matter how well you do, you're going to act the way you'd rather not at one point or another, sometimes willingly. Some things you can never change. You can be better, but not even an inch a way from who you already were. Not when you're me. I could tell you everything about me in detail, yet still overlook certain crucial information that I couldn't put into words for others to understand even if I were to be the most intelligent being on earth.

Things has become more than less irrepressible, I'm no longer in the right state of mind. I've lost it all in silence, I almost couldn't grasp it myself. I was told to get a grip but my hands are sore from holding on too tight onto what would only screw me over in the end, proving how unavailing my efforts are. I wouldn't blame it on anything or anyone. I've been putting zero efforts as days goes by. I live trying to stay alive. I get anxious, I am restless, I get edgy, I'm everything at once that I'm nothing. I take in all that I can, it takes so much space in me, I no longer own myself. As I subconsciously block everything but what is present, out, and let my body react as if I am aware of all that is happening when in reality, I've been stuck in a never ending journey to nowhere. Like a dog chasing it's on tail. I'm not there, or here.

From then I knew, everyone I'm aware of having all my attentions put towards, would soon be drawn to a nerve wrecking emotional whirlpool. It must have been really inconsiderate of me, to let anyone else in, thinking I could do better. My mistake.

-riri-